


Lavender

by Alphum



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Artemis is only here very briefly to threaten Tim sorry guys, Consent Issues, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dick's terrible fashion sense, M/M, Psychotropic Drugs, Roy is a wingman, Roy is protective, Tim is very aware of said consent issues, drugged flirting, rated for Jason's pottymouth, shy kisses, waxing poetical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21766765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphum/pseuds/Alphum
Summary: The Red Hood and Robin are chasing a bad guy who blows up a building. The problem is that this explosion releases some wack purple smoke. The Red Hood realizes it's altering Robin's mental state and lowering his guard and, really, with one mask between the two of them, what else would a big brother do?AKA the one where Jason gets drugged and starts blurting out all his innermost feelings because he's all warm and fuzzy and Tim has to take care of himAKA the one where Tim feels bad because he's listening to Jason's inner monologue and this is a really big intrusion Dick and he's drugged out of his mind Dick and this really isn't consensual Dick and Jason just really wants to cuddle Tim and make him laugh
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 182
Kudos: 646





	1. Chapter 1

Robin stirred, disturbing some rubble on top of him. Nothing large was pinning him down, thank the gods for that. He took stock of his surroundings as he tried to get to his feet, dazed. He couldn’t seem to stay upright, the world spinning when he tried. The building was a lot more open than it had been, now that it didn’t have walls. Or a ceiling. It looked like the blast had traveled up three floors. Or was it four?  _ Five _ ? His vision was blurring. He staggered and fell to his knees. He couldn’t even walk in a straight line. He would be angry about it later.    
He was drugged, he realized somewhere in the back of his mind. He should probably be more worried about that. But he didn’t really mind. He felt light and floaty, at peace. Everything seemed very distant to him, muffled almost.   
There was a sweet smelling smoke rapidly filling the building. It was purple. He watched it billow into huge clouds of smoke, rising from the base of the crater the explosion had caused. He crawled to the edge of the crater to see it better. He had to stop several times and wait for his head to stop spinning. Despite being on his hands and knees, he kept almost falling. At the edge, he leaned forward, wondering where it was coming from. Maybe he could see how many floors had been damaged?   
He wasn’t even alarmed as he overbalanced and began to fall.    
“No you don’t!” He was being yanked backwards and hauled back. He looked up to see a red helmet. It was smooth. Shiny.    
His brother! “Jason.” His mouth was slow. “You’re here.” The English felt garbled in his mouth. English never felt right anyway, but this was on another level. “What happened?” He asked in Arabic. It felt funny too, but less so than English had. Eugh. What a horrid language english was.    
“Jesus, you’re high.” Jason knelt by him and oh, when had he been laid down? He tried to sit up, but his body was having trouble listening to his commands. Then there was something squeezing onto his head. His vision was cut off before the inside of the helmet lit up with images and displays that danced before his eyes. There was no more sweet smell from the smoke and he made a face when he smelled the inside of Jason’s helmet instead. Cigarette smoke, stale sweat, and old gum.   
Dimly, he could feel himself moving, but it felt far away. He watched the glowing characters of the displays twist and morph and it was mesmerizing. He felt warm and safe in Jason’s arms, knowing his brother would take care of him. 

Then he was asleep.    
He jerked awake in a cold sweat and slammed his head into the loose helmet he was wearing. He was pinned. Why was he wearing Jason’s helmet? What was on him? He dragged himself forward. It felt like he was moving through syrup, not slow, but that’s what it felt like. Walking through water knowing you were supported to do the most graceful of things. It was comforting, in a way. That made him extremely uncomfortable because he was rarely comfortable and contented like this. Once free, he yanked the thing off his head. Everything was dazzlingly bright and it looked like someone had turned the color contrast on real life up to ten. He gasped in a breath of clean, cold air. He looked down at his hands.    
A helmet.    
The Red Hood.    
Jason lying facedown on the concrete, breathing heavily.    
“Hood. Hood!” He snapped his fingers in front of his face, to no response. Shit. His fingers weren’t working completely yet. He yanked his communicator free from his belt, fumbling and accidentally sending it skipping across the pavement. He growled and dove after it and almost broke his nose when everything happened a lot faster than he expected. He finally flipped open his comm. His eyes widened when he realized he’d lost nearly two hours. He called Batman’s direct line before remembering he wasn’t planetside. He terminated the call and hit the second speed dial. Nightwing would have to do. 

\---   
Tim licked up a stream of sauce that was trying to trail down the sleeve of his suit. Dick was right, this was the best barbecue in the city. He finished the sandwich and licked his fingers clean. The sauce was too good to let it go to waste. Sorry Alfie. If he were dead, he’d be rolling in his grave. As it was, he still expected him to come leaping out of the shadows with a wooden spoon to smack him with for licking his fingers.   
Dick tapped a call through to his comm with the back of his wrist. It looked practiced and Tim laughed.    
“Nightwing, go ahead Robin.” Dick said. Then he froze.    
That wasn’t a good sign. Tim hurriedly wiped his hands and yanked his discarded gloves back on.    
Dick’s mouth set into a thin line. Not good. “Red Robin and I are en route now.”   
Tim was already halfway to their bikes and Dick vaulted over the picnic table like it was a pommel horse.   
“Thanks Carol!” Nightwing yelled over his shoulder, to the woman leaning out the window of the food truck. “Sorry about the mess!” She waved after them.   
Tim tapped his comm back from his muted mode, reopening the line with Nightwing as they started their engines. “Where we headed?” He asked as Dick floored it and peeled out of the parking lot.    
“Downtown. The Waterworth bank offices. Fast. Robin and Hood hit trouble.”   
Red Robin revved his engine and followed, leaving an identical tire streak as he went. They wove through the night, unable to avoid busy streets. They wove in and out of traffic expertly, doing their best to avoid dinging any of the cars on the road with them.

He knew Dick felt bad about breaking off side mirrors. Tim had gotten used to it, but he was also slimmer than his brother. They were probably eight minutes out.    
“Faster.” Nightwing said in his ear. “Robin sounded scared.”   
Tim was already going seventy, moving between cars as needed when they didn’t move. Dick wouldn’t egg him faster unless he was worried. He toed his bike up another gear and opened the throttle. The shaky hand of the speedometer licked at a hundred miles an hour. Make that three minutes.    
It wasn’t hard to find, police and firefighters already flocking to the scene. Nightwing and Red Robin didn’t slow their approach, letting the responders scatter at the last minute before they burst through the flimsy tape. They hit the brakes once they were in the open radius around the building. Tim slammed on his brakes and turned his bike sideways to let the perpendicular tires slow him faster. Dick did the same, but deliberately overturned, sending his bike into an expert spin as he flung himself off. His bike spun around three times before it finally stopped and fell. Right onto the kickstand.    
Dick could always do the craziest shit. It would be annoying if it weren’t so cool, Tim noted in the back of his mind.   
By the time Red Robin made it over, Robin was clinging uncharacteristically to Nightwing. Nightwing was rubbing his back soothingly under his cape, murmuring softly to him. Red Hood was motionless, but breathing. He didn’t appear to be wounded. Red Robin rolled him onto his back to check his front. Pulse was normal. Unresponsive to stimulus. He rolled him into the recovery position. His helmet was laying on the ground beside him, his face still covered by a domino.   
“Robin, what happened?” Red Robin knelt by them, Robin huddled between Nightwing’s bent legs, face pressed to his sternum. All three of them snapped their heads to the side as the Red Hood let out a trilling ring.    
_ “Ally identified.” _ The Helmet said in a cool voice. It sounded like Alfred, a bit, his accent and the way his words sounded crisper than they had a right to.  _ “One message waiting for Red Robin.” _   
Nightwing and Red Robin looked at each other with wide eyes. Red Robin gently picked up the helmet. “Red Hood, play message.” he said, trying not to make it a question. Nightwing looked as clueless and confused as he did.   
_ “Incorrect authorization.”  _   
Nightwing and Red Robin looked at each other to share a panicked look. Red Robin examined the helmet carefully. “Why did he have to make this difficult?” He muttered. He turned it over and over, looking for any etchings or indicators other than the various buttons and switches and pressure plates. “Shit.” He muttered, looking the helmet in the eyes.    
_ “Frustration detected.” _ The helmet said.   
Roy had definitely had a hand in programming. 

Red Robin flipped it to glare into its stupid eyeholes. “No shit.” He muttered.

_ “Would you like a hint?” _ The helmet asked.   
“Yes!” Red Robin and Nightwing said together.    
_ “You’re my only hope.”  _ It was said in a higher tone than the helmet had been speaking in.   
Nightwing looked devastated at the cryptic, haunting words.    
Red Robin laughed. Jason was still Jason. “Obi-Wan, play back message.” He couldn’t help but grin when it beeped.    
Jason’s voice came from the speaker next, tinny from recording and staticy from his hard breathing.  _ “Shit! Red, I hope you get this in time if this shit is poisonous. The fucking dumbass had a suicide bomb or fucking something, blew it when we were closing in. It triggered some sort of gas coming from the first or second basement, I can’t tell. It’s lavender in color, heavy, smells sweet. Check the Hood filtration, it should have filtered enough out to get a few samples. I’m putting the helmet on Robin now, the gas affected him a lot quicker, he passed out after trying to take a four floor header. I’m trying to find an alternate way out of the building that won’t bring it down on my head because the fucking explosion triggered all the fucking magnetic door and window locks. Jesus  _ fucking  _ Christ, I need a vacation.” _   
“End playback.” The helmet said.    
Nightwing was already standing, pulling Robin into his arms. He didn’t protest.    
Nightwing and Red Robin shared another look. If it had affected Damian, he needed immediate attention. But so did Jason, affected more, but with a larger body. Damian finally realized his position and flailed, rolling out of Dick’s arms to face plant on the ground. Then he rolled over and looked up at the sky.    
“Why is everything soft.” His tone was flat and long-suffering, but it was a question.    
“What?” Nightwing crouched by him.    
“Everything’s fluffy.” Damian reached up to— to something, probably, but what he actually accomplished was putting his hand across Nightwing’s face. He’d’ve poked him in the eye if he wasn’t wearing his mask. He just held his hand there until Dick pulled it away from his face, trying not to smile. “Little Prince, are you high?” He asked.    
Damian looked at him like he was an idiot. Tim knew that look well. It was good to see it directed at Dick for once. “Dick,” he said, very seriously. “we are on the ground.”   
Red Robin had to turn around and count to ten in Russian to keep from fucking losing it.    
Dick was looking up at him when he turned back around, lips pressed together so hard they were white. Damian was staring at his hands, trying to snap as loudly as he could. “He’s so high.” Dick said. He was trying so hard not to laugh now that there probably wasn’t any danger.    
Red Robin looked at Red Hood thoughtfully before it clicked. “Oh my god.” He looked at Dick. He had a feeling they had the same mixture of glee and horror. “He’s too high to move.”    
“That can happen?” Dick was disbelieving.    
“Yeah. Happened to Superboy once. Apparently Kryptonians process weed a lot more effectively than humans do. Garfield didn’t label his brownies and we found Superboy just floating in the rec room. We had to lasso him down. It took him, like, three days to move again.”   
Dick giggled. It was high and slightly hysterical. Tim could relate.    
“Red Hood?” Tim patted his cheek lightly. Judging by Damian’s current clumsiness, he didn’t have to worry about any sort of wake up fear response. “Hey, time to get up.”   
Jason gave a small whine and pushed out weakly with his arms, covering his face.    
“Oh my god, that’s adorable.” Dick was standing again. He’d wrapped Robin up like a burrito in his own cloak and the boy was too confused to fight it.    
“Oh my god, he looks like a kitten.” Tim wanted to pet his hair while his guard was down, but refrained. Biting his fingers might be instinctive by now, rather than a reaction.   
“I’m going to take him on back to the cave and run some tests, make sure this stuff isn’t harmful. I’ll come get you in the Batmobile if it is.”   
Tim nodded; that had been his plan as well. “I’ll get him to a safehouse, Batgirl has one that’s not too far.” He filled in the second half of the plan.   
Nightwing nodded in approval. “I’m glad you knew that, because the closest one I knew of was Robin’s bolthole. Two miles or so.”   
“I wouldn’t be able to carry him that far.” Red Robin shook his head. “He’s too big for me to ride with.”   
Nightwing nodded to his wiggling burrito. “You sure you don’t want to take him?”   
“No!” He yelled in Dick’s ear, kicking his legs ineffectively. “I won’t go with Dr-“   
Nightwing clapped a hand over his mouth. “I’ll be off then!” He said cheerily. “Before he decides to tell everyone my real name too!”   
“Take this with you.” Tim grabbed the Red Hood helmet.    
Nightwing hoisted Robin up and under his arm, tired of his flailing. He grabbed the hood and shoved it on his head to muffle his outraged noise. “Perfect! Thanks Robbie!” He chirped, grinning wickedly. “GLHF!”   
“Don’t use my words against me!” Tim yelled after him. He regretted teaching him anything.    
Jason whined below him, flopping an arm to cover his ear.    
“Sorry.” He apologized to him.    
Jason hummed and went still again.    
Red Robin tensed as he felt someone approach. He turned and looked over his shoulder, still in a crouch. He let his arm fan out slightly to balance himself but also to move his cape to expose his folded staff. It should also be enough to keep Jason mostly obscured.   
It was an EMT. Back a safe distance from the building and from the Reds was an ambulance. He stopped as soon as Red Robin moved, raising his hands to show he wasn’t armed.    
Red Robin didn’t move.    
The guy realized he had to start talking after a long moment of waiting awkwardly. “Is he okay?”   
“Nothing we can’t handle.” Red Robin said smoothly.    
“You guys usually clear out pretty quick. Do you need anything?”    
Red Robin hesitated. He wasn’t sure Red Hood would be up to move anytime soon. “A few bottles of water would be helpful.”   
“Sure!” The guy looked relieved. “Anything else?”   
“Just the water.” Red Robin turned back to Red Hood as the man moved away again. “Hood?” Red Robin pushed him out of recovery position. Jason flopped heavily onto his back, looked up at Tim, and gasped. “Shit, are you hurt?” He started to look for blood again, feeling for any obvious injuries.   
He just laid there. Staring at him. “T-“ he swallowed the sound back, sounding so much like Damian that Tim couldn’t help but smile. “Red?” Jason croaked.    
“Yeah, it’s me. We’ve got some water coming. How are you feeling?” Tim asked softly, remembering that he’d flinched away from sound before.   
“Hhllllng.” It was either a groan or a whine.    
“Can you use your words?” Tim asked, but then turned when he felt the EMT approaching again.    
He paused where he had before.    
Red Robin eyed him up and down before gesturing him over. “Bring it here. Help me sit him up.”   
The EMT set down four bottles of water when he knelt at Red Hood’s other side.    
Red Robin raised a hand to keep him from touching him yet. He knew his presence, as well as any of the Bats, was processed as ‘not an immediate threat’ to his subconscious. He didn’t know about anyone else, even in this state. “Red Hood.” He patted his chest to get his attention. “This is Mateo. He’s going to be helping us really quick, okay?” He spoke calmly, in a neutral tone.   
Mateo’s eyes went wide when Red Robin said his name, an excited flush coloring his cheeks. Tim hoped he didn’t burst his own bubble when he remembered his name was sewn onto his work vest.    
Jason’s head flopped deliberately to the side to look at him. Inspecting him. “’kay.” He said after a long moment..    
“Okay, we’re going to sit you up to drink some water, alright?” Red Robin kept his voice as even as possible except to raise it into an obvious answer at the end.    
Jason hummed an affirmation.    
Red Robin grabbed a fistful of his jacket and the back of his neck. Mateo grabbed the back of his shoulder with both hands.    
They lifted together. Tim was glad he had help, because  _ Jesus _ . Jason was heavy. He was deadweight until he was about halfway and then he seemed to remember how to move again, all at once. He jerked the rest of the way up and almost overbalanced. Tim’s ‘soccer mom’ arm across his front was the only thing that kept him from smacking his face into the ground between his legs. He managed to get his hands in front of him and pushed himself up carefully.    
“Fuck?” He said questioningly. Tim guessed the preceding ‘what the’ had been forgotten.    
Red Robin went ahead and held onto his shoulder with both hands in case of any more erratic movement. Mateo offered Red Hood a bottle of water.    
He took it slowly and turned it over in his hands, texting his motor skills. Even drugged out of his mind, Jason was still Jason. He cracked it open easily and downed it in one go. Then he looked at the empty bottle. He wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket automatically, even though he didn’t dribble any water.    
“Cold.” He said and looked at Red Robin. Questioningly?    
“Yeah, probably refrigerated.” Red Robin answered automatically. His hand on the front of his jacket was placed strategically to take his pulse, placed most of the way up his collarbone.   
“You want another?” Mateo held another one up.    
Jason looked at him like he hadn’t realized he was there. He took the water slowly. Analyzing him as a threat or distracted by him because he was high? He still didn’t know how dangerous he was like this, intentionally or not.    
“Hood, drink that.” He ordered, tapping his thigh firmly.    
Jason responded immediately to the order, cracking it open and slamming it all back.    
He hadn’t meant the whole thing. He sighed.    
Jason looked over at Red Robin and slapped a hand over Tim’s on his leg. It reminded him of how Damian had plastered his on Dick.    
“How are you feeling? What are your symptoms?” He asked.    
Jason looked at him. He needed to get somewhere to take off his domino so he could check his eyes. His expression was neutral. “He’s pretty.” He said, completely seriously, reminding him again of Damian.    
Mateo made a choking noise on his other side.    
“You are so high.” Red Robin sighed mournfully.    
Jason flexed his hands absently as he looked around. Then he looked around again. A third time.    
Then he was up on his feet, using Red Robin as a handhold to do so. He was too startled to hold onto him, not expecting him to move so fast. Strangely fast.    
“Where’s Robin?” He demanded, whirling to face Red Robin, who was now standing. “Where is he?” He shoved his face into his, practically growling.    
Red Robin grabbed his shoulders. He was careful not to act too aggressively. He spoke clearly, using simple words and repeating codenames several times. It’s what worked best when Dick, Cass, or Bruce was drugged or drunk or otherwise inhibited. Reassurance. Hopefully it would work for Jason. “Robin’s fine. Robin didn’t get exposed to as much as you did. Robin woke up earlier and called Nightwing. Nightwing took Robin to the Batcave. Nightwing and Agent A are going to take really good care of Robin.”   
“Robin’s okay?” He repeated.    
“Yeah, Robin’s okay. You kept him safe. You did a good job.”   
“I did good.” He repeated again, looking at the building. “Robin’s safe.” Then he leaned against Red Robin. It wasn’t quite collapsing, but it was definitely putting all his weight on him at once.    
“Hood!” He wheezed, trying not to fall over and trying to stop him from falling.    
“Oops.” Then he jerked back the other way too fast, making Tim lurch forward to grab him.    
“Christ. Stand up.” He ordered.    
He scrambled to his feet.    
Well, he was up. No time like the present to move out then. Red Robin lifted Jason’s arm and tucked himself into his side, pulling it down around his shoulder and grabbing him around the waist to help steady him.    
Jason made a small surprised noise. “Red.”   
“Yeah?” He looked up at him.    
“You should, uh... shit. What’s that dumb that Dickface says all the time? To flirt? When he does it?” He questioned.    
It took Red Robin a second to rearrange the scrambled sentence. “When... oh jeez.” He chuckled. “I should buy you dinner first?” He asked, beginning to walk.    
“Yeah!” Jason grinned brightly. It took him a second to realize he was supposed to be moving with him and stumbled forward. “You should buy me dinner first before you get to grab the goods!”    
Tim couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not grabbing any of your goods, dumbass!”   
Jason hummed for a long moment as he tried to find a middle ground between too fast and too slow. It was jerky progress, since he kept trying to stop to look to think. Tim just tugged him along, past as few police as possible, down the darkest alleys he could find. He kept pulling him into motion and he slowly found a pace that worked.    
Tim had a feeling he had hummed to give himself time to think of a comeback. He always gave a little hum before dropping a really good one. He had started the hum and then lost his train of thought. Now he was humming Broadway showtunes.

Who knew the Red Hood was a theatre buff?


	2. Chapter 2

They made it to Steph’s safehouse without incident. It had been nearly an hour since Dick had left with Damian. He’d gotten a quick confirmation from Dick in his earpiece that they’d made it back, but it ended with Dick yelping and cutting out suddenly, shouting something that sounded indignant.   
Tim thumbed in the code on the pad beside the door and Jason darted in curiously. The water and the walk had probably helped clear his head a little. He was still having trouble balancing but he was moving fast enough that he was usually able to compensate for it before it became an issue. He looked like he was doing a perimeter check, which Tim redid properly to shut the place down enough to strip down.    
He activated the emergency containment lock too, coding it to his thumb from his phone. The windows were too small for Jason’s gigantic shoulders and he couldn’t find any other exits. He should be okay if Jason got it into his head to leave. Tim was careful not to turn on any lights, remembering how wide his pupils had been. It would hurt more than help. Their night vision was good enough anyway. The apartment was in a decrepit old apartment in the center of an apartment complex that was slated for eventual demolition. They should be safe here. Steph had picked the apartment based on structure, stealth, and ‘whatever has the least amount of holes.’    
Tim exited the bedroom after his check, just in time to see Jason jump onto the couch, almost bounce  _ off  _ the couch, overbalance, not move over far enough before trying to lay down, and  _ then  _ roll off the couch.    
Tim almost fell over laughing. He’d peeled off his mask, probably as soon as Tim had shouted the all clear, so Tim got to see every single change of emotion as he did. They were completely unfiltered by any sense of embarrassment or decorum and it. Was. Great.    
Actually, scratch that. 

He stood straight, trying to smother his laughter, but then saw Jason lying on the floor looking at him upside-down with the  _ dopiest  _ grin on his face and he lost it. He tried to support himself on his knees, but was laughing too hard. He fell to his knees and elbows and just let it all out. The incredulity, the comical angle of his leg still on the couch, his mismatched Disney Princess socks, Damian’s ineffective fighting, the Damian burrito, Jason trying to sing Phantom of the Opera to a cat in an alley; the sheer incredulity of the whole situation. He had to peel off his domino mask because it was filling with tears of laughter.    
“Timmy!”   
He choked back his laughs and let himself flop fully on the floor and roll over to look at Jason, who was leaning out with his arms on the arm of the sofa with an unguarded grin.    
It made him smile to see it. Another hidden thing about him he’d found.    
“I like your laugh.”   
Tim was still trying to stifle his laughter. “Thanks, I guess.”   
“I like making you laugh more.” He was so matter-of-fact about it.    
He covered his face with his hands. Hiding his blush was automatic at this point.    
“Timmyyyy.”   
“Jay?” Since Jason was calling him by a nickname, he chanced his own.    
He didn’t seem to notice. “I’m so hungry. I want to eat everything because everything’s so bright and extra and big and fluffy and it’ll be fucking great.” Jason was still smiling slightly, but looked much more serious, less like he was doped out of his mind.    
“Can you go see if there’s PBJ stuff in the kitchen?”   
Jason lurched off the couch and leaned against the coffee table and wobbled towards the kitchen, talking the whole way. “I’m not eating fucking crunchy peanut butter!” He yelled once he got to the kitchen.    
“Nobody’s asking you to!” Tim yelled back. His staff was digging into his hip and it wasn’t a euphemism. He grabbed one of the laundry baskets strewn about and started dumping weaponry and gear in it. He unzipped the back of his costume with a move that always made him look like he was about to dislocate his arm.    
Stephanie and Dick could both do it so gracefully and it always looked sexy, no matter the state of their suit. But neither of them had gotten the idea to add zippers to their sleeves. He slipped them off easily with the extra give and he let the suit hang loosely from his hips. He heard something and glanced up to see Jason standing in the door holding a jar of peanut butter, mouth agape.    
“Jay? You okay?”   
He snapped his mouth shut, but his eyes went even wider, if that were possible.    
“Hm.” Tim moved closer to examine his pupils. They were blown. There was barely any iris visible, just a hint of green around the edges. That would explain both Damian and Jason’s comments about brightness and things looking fluffy. Blurry would probably be a better word. He went to grab his phone but he’d already thrown his bandoliers in his pile of gear. He went to grab it and Jason made another strangled noise when he did.    
“Jayse, you good?” He frowned.    
Jason was pressing the peanut butter against his forehead. “If you’d told me you were stripping in here I would have stayed and watched.” He sounded cross. “But you’re too pretty to look at sometimes.” He almost sounded angry.    
Tim wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or flattered or what. He really needed to talk to Dick. “Go make your PBJ.” He said through his hands.    
“I can’t tell if this is chunky or not.” Jason grumbled into the side of the jar   
Tim rolled his eyes and grabbed it to look at the label. “Extra creamy. Says so right here.”   
“I can’t read it, it’s too wiggly. And too bright. And too round. And too... too...” he trailed off, looking at Tim again.    
Tim shook his head, amused. He pressed the jar back into his hands. “I need to make a call. Go make a sandwich.”   
Jason turned on his heel at the order.    
Tim hit his speed dial for Dick.    
_ “Timmy, how’s Jay?” _ Dick answered almost immediately.    
“He’s high as a fucking kite.” Tim sighed. “He’s on Jupiter, man. Damian?”   
_ “Mostly back to his usual self, I think. He fell asleep on Titus about ten minutes ago, but that’s not too unusual. His pupils and reflexes were still a little weird though.” _   
“Yeah, his pupils are huge. Like, Bambi huge. And he walks like Bambi too, too fast and then too slow and then spacing out.”   
_ “Yeah, Dami too. He got crabbier as it wore off too.” _   
“Jason’s acting really nice, actually. Like, weirdly nice. He’s never this nice to anyone.”   
_ “Really? Hm. Damian stopped yelling at me for the kitten burrito after he got free but he didn’t really talk after that. What’s he saying?” _   
Tim blushed. “I don’t know if I should repeat it.”   
Dick gasped and Tim just knew he was grinning.  _ “Timothy! Was it naughty?” _ He shouted down the line.    
“Dick! Jesus Christ, you don’t need to yell.” Tim complained, pulling the phone away from his ear too late.    
“Dick?” Jason was at the doorway to the kitchen again, this time looking like a kid on Christmas.    
“Yeah, I’m talking to Dick.”   
_ “Dickiebird!”  _   
_ “No, Ja-“  _   
Tim couldn’t even finish his name as two hundred and fifty pounds of excited, still armored, clumsy, drugged vigilante crashed into him. He wasn’t sure if the goal was to tackle him or stop next to him or latch on to him or what, but Tim ended up on his back on the floor, wheezing at the ceiling. He tried to sit up, but then Jason was moving again, towards the phone that he’d dropped that had skidded away. Then he had a facefull of Jason’s chest as he let his body drape as it fell.    
He smelled like sweaty leather and old cigarettes. Not at all like he’d imagined. Not that he’d imagined this, of course.    
He wiggled and pushed with his feet and managed to scoot up a bit, far enough that his face wasn’t smooshed and his lungs had some room. That was his first priority, everything else was secondary.    
His face ended up in Jason’s neck this time and he stared for a moment at it. Jason was talking excitedly to Dick on the phone, almost too fast for him to follow. But even in a state like this he should react to Tim being so close to something so vulnerable. This was bad.    
This was really bad.    
“Gimme the phone, now.” Tim demanded, breathlessly. “And then get off me, fatass.”   
Jason frowned but forked it over. He leaned in to listen to their conversation, completely ignoring him.    
“Dick, is Damian defensive?” He demanded.    
_ “Uh, what?” _ Dick sounded confused.    
“Jason just almost crushed me, but then when I moved, I was all up in his neck, his throat. He didn’t even twitch having me so close like that, inside his defenses. You need to test Damian while he may still be affected, see if his defenses are down. This could be really bad if this is what it was made for.”   
_ “You want me to go wake up the sleeping kid assassin. Of course you do.” _ Dick muttered on the other side as Jason pulled away slightly, frowning more.    
“It’s not because my defenses are down. I wanted to punch that medic’s face in when he touched me but you said not to.” Jason informed him, a little tartly.    
“This kind of says otherwise.” Tim huffed. Jason was still laying on him.   
They both looked at the phone when Dick let out a screech, followed by a  _ “Damian what the  _ **_fuck_ ** _?” _ And the line going dead.    
Jason grabbed the phone and pouted. “He didn’t say bye.”   
Judging by that, Damian was fine. Which meant Jason’s defenses weren’t down. So then what on earth—?   
He turned it over in his mind as he relaxed slightly. No longer in do or die mode, he allowed himself to do what he had been shoving to the back of his mind. He took it all in. Jason’s body, pressing him down, practically caging him in. Jason’s shins on top of his feet as he settled his chin on top of Tim’s head. How warm he was. How good he smelled.    
Wait, what?   
Tim blinked at the curve of his neck. Sniffed delicately. It was definitely him. He smelled like black currant tea, green wood, and something that made him want a fruit tart.    
“Jason, get off me.” Before I start huffing your neck like a dog.    
He whined and Tim  _ felt _ it reverberate through to his chest from their contact.    
“You’re squishing me and you stink.” He pushed at him ineffectively.    
“I do  _ not  _ stink.” Jason pushed himself up onto his hands to pout-glare at him more effectively and  _ oh no _ , this was a  _ terrible  _ idea. Jason on his hands and knees on top of him, hair disheveled and cheeks flushed from excitement. This was even worse.   
They blinked at each other for a half of a heartbeat before Jason grinned down at him. It was that sweet smile again, the one that made his teeth hurt and his breath catch in his throat.    
“You’re so pretty.” Jason said. There was only sincerity in his eyes. “You’re so pretty like this. You’re so pretty all of the fucking time.”   
Oh. So maybe it wasn’t that his defenses were down. Maybe it was that Tim was inside of them. He tried to crush the thought before hope could start to bubble up. Impaired thinking. Loss of fine motor skills. Extreme pupil dilation. Short attention span. He was drugged off his ass right now.    
“Jason—“   
Jason surprised him by sitting back on Tim’s torso and reaching forward. He didn’t breathe, maybe he couldn’t. Jason raked his fingers through his hair, so slowly and so tenderly that it made him shiver. His eyes were so intense, staring down at him. “I love the way you say my name.” Jason said. The next secret he spilled. The next thing that Tim was betraying his trust on by listening when he was  _ drugged _ .    
“Hood.” He said, remembering he had responded to that better. “Get off of me, now.”   
He barely even saw Jason move, but then he was pressed against the couch, knees drawn to his chin. It would have been comical if he had been smiling.    
He wasn’t. 

His eyes were wide, lips pressed tight. He looked like he was waiting to be kicked.   
Tim— no, he had to be Red Robin right now. Red Robin got to his feet and grabbed another empty laundry basket and set it on the coffee table. “All your weapons, in their holsters, in here. Then your coat and jeans.”   
Jason began unbuckling his holsters, almost looking vacant. He looked betrayed, almost. He almost looked like a lot of things, but mostly he looked slightly dazed.   
Tim’s chest was tight for another reason now. Red Robin ignored it, going to the kitchen. He finished the two sandwiches that Jason had made and plopped them on a paper plate. He looked at them for a moment before cutting each one in an X to make four triangles.    
Jason was standing by the basket when he returned. He was wearing a hoodie, runners tights, and his princess socks. One Jasmine, one Ariel.   
“Bedroom.” Red Robin ordered, and Jason went. Tim tried not to think of saying that in completely different circumstances.    
Tim hesitated by Jason’s gear and sighed. He dug through his jacket and wrinkled his nose. It must be the source of the stale cigarettes and sweaty leather from earlier. Gross. Either he needed a new one or he needed this one dry cleaned. Desperately. He rummaged through the pockets and grabbed the small knife in an olive green sheath from under one of the arms. Then he headed to the bedroom.    
Jason was sitting cross-legged on the bed, warily watching the door. He didn’t look angry or aggressive, just resigned.    
Tim set the plate down in front of him. “Eat.”   
Jason eyed it.    
“Please.” He added.    
Jason eyed Tim.    
He knew that look in his eye. Shit. Then he thought, well, he was already fucked, so why not? It might even support his hypothesis. “For me?” He asked. He felt bad manipulating him like this.    
Jason looked at him for a long moment before reaching to grab a quarter. “Triangles are my favorite.” He said, quietly.    
“I know.” Tim said.    
“You know everything though.” Jason said, shoving the entire piece into his mouth at once.    
“Not everything.” Not how Jason would react in the morning. Not if this was real or not. Not if he would trust him again after violating his trust like this. Not if it was just some long con. Not if, not if, not if.    
Jason made a disagreeing noise through his mouthful of sandwich. A moment. He swallowed. He watched Tim for a moment. “Are you mad at me?” He asked, voice going soft again.    
It almost broke Tim’s heart right then and there. “Jay, no, of course not, no.” He couldn’t not move closer after that, walking until his thighs were pressed against the bed, Jason just an arms length away. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me.”   
Jason relaxed, but only a little. “Are you mad at you  _ because  _ me?”    
Jesus. Only Jason could boil it down to such a simple question. “No. I’m just mad at me because me.” He wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not.    
Jason relaxed a bit more, tucking another triangle into his mouth. Tim sat tentatively on the edge of the mattress. The last line of tension melted from his body as he reached for another triangle. He paused and frowned at it before it made it all the way to his mouth. Sniffed at it. Made a face.    
“Gross. This one’s yours.” He shoved it at Tim and almost dropped it in his lap.    
“What? No, it’s your food.” Tim tried to hand it back but Jason just kept handing him triangles of PBJ, whether he took them or not.   
“It’s gross!” Jason shielded his remaining food with his hands protectively.    
“Jason, what are you talking about? It’s a sandwich.”    
Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah,  _ your  _ sandwich. It’s yours and Steph’s nasty marmalade shit, that one’s yours. Mine has fucking strawberry, like a reasonable person who doesn’t like chewing on sad leather.”   
He’d heard this argument a hundred times, so he ignored it. Tim took a tentative sniff and then a small bite. It was orange marmalade and crunchy peanut butter. His favorite. He couldn’t help but smile, surprised and pleased. “Thank you.”    
Jason looked pleased with himself. He’d finished his sandwich during Tim’s examination of his own.    
“You want me to make another sandwich?” He asked.    
“Noooooo...” Jason dragged out the word for as long as he could.   
Tim finished his sandwich and brushed the crumbs off the sheets. “Damian’s been sleeping it off mostly, it sounds like.”   
“Damian’s okay, right?” Jason tensed suddenly. “Shit, he was with me, is he okay?” Presumably, he tried to vault out of the bed to the doorway. What he actually did was lunge forward and faceplant into the bed.    
“Damian’s fine! He’s great! You took care of him, he’s totally fine!” Tim reassured him quickly.    
“Damian’s okay?” Jason lurched upright and almost fell back onto his back.    
“Yeah, he’s good, you took really good care of him. You did a really good job.” Tim reassured him.    
Jason looked at him with wide eyes and— impossibly— blushed. “I did good?” He asked softly.    
“Yeah Jay, you did so good.” Tim couldn’t help but smile again. Jason was too cute and Tim was going to hell.   
Jason dropped his head down and covered his face with his hands, making another one of those choking noises, this one almost a squeak. It was adorable and Tim felt horrible. He pulled the blankets back and patted the mattress.    
“Naptime.” He said.    
Jason looked up, his moment of shyness forgotten already. “I’m not... sleepy?” He looked confused.    
Tim was right there with him. It was weird to be putting a twenty-five year old man down for a nap after a PBJ.    
“You need to rest. Not a question.” Tim said. He really didn’t want to use his Red Robin voice to force him to. It felt wrong. “If you nap, we can go and see Dick.”   
Jason smiled, pleased. He got under the covers and curled up on his side. He slid his hand under his pillow and made a small noise.    
A tiny, scared noise.    
Tim stepped forward quickly, pulling the knife from his waistband where he’d tucked it. “I got it. Right here.” He slid the sheathed knife under the pillow. He hadn’t watched Jason bed down enough, but he’d seen the process enough times to know that Jason liked to sleep with a knife close by and usually kept several small ones in his jacket.   
Hand wrapped securely around the hilt, his eyelids were already beginning to droop, but he moved fast enough to catch his hand as he pulled away.    
“You good?” He asked.    
Jason ignored him and instead, brought his hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips over his first two knuckles in the lightest kiss he’d ever felt. Then he twisted his hand, making him open it. He pressed a second kiss, just a hair heavier, to his palm. He looked up at Tim, eyes huge and intense. Then he let him go and closed his eyes. And then he was asleep.    
“Oh my god.” Tim covered his face with his hands. 

Then he tried not to panic.  
Then he called Dick. He flopped onto the couch and started wiggling out of the rest of his fucking Red Robin suit. It was getting sweaty.  
 _“Tim, you guys still okay?”_ Dick sounded concerned, but cheery.  
“Yeah, except for my sanity.” Tim wiggled his hips free and kicked the rest off like jeans that were too tight. He’d deal with his compression shorts later.  
 _“What happened? Do you need me?”_ Dick’s voice went sharp, commander mode.  
“No, no. Everything is fine. I just...” he draped his arm over his eyes. “This sounds so fucking stupid. I’m imagining it, I’m sure, so you’re not allowed to fucking laugh at me, okay? I’m serious.”  
 _“Of course. You don’t even need to ask. Lay it on me, what’s the situation?”_ Dick sounded unusually serious, but then Tim guessed he was acting unusually weird.   
“So remember how I said he was being really nice and saying weird shit? I think Jason may have been... seriously, don’t laugh. I think he was flirting with me?” He felt stupid for saying it.   
Silence from the other end.   
Shit. He’d been wrong. His stomach felt like it was one big knot. “Forget I ever—“  
“ _Tim_.” Dick cut him off. His voice was thick and slightly choked, the way it was when he was trying his absolute hardest not to laugh. “ _He’s been flirting with you for the last year and a half_.”   
“Bullshit.” Tim said immediately. “Dick, you said you would take this seriously!”  
 _“Tim, Timmy, Tim-Tom,_ ** _dude_** _. Jason has been pining for you for the last, like, three years.”_ Dick was starting to giggle towards the end.   
“You’re... _not_ joking?” Usually Dick gave up the facade pretty quickly after being called on it.   
_“No man.”_  
“He’s flirting with me? Like, intentionally? On purpose? Wait, did you say _pining_?”  
Dick dropped the phone, laughing hysterically.   
Tim just stared at the phone he was holding. This couldn’t be real. Maybe he was the one who was drugged.   
“ _Drake_!” The phone snapped.   
“Damian?” He pressed it back to his ear.   
_“What did you do to break our idiot of an older brother?”_ He sounded disgusted.   
“Damian.” He said urgently. Damian never lied. He was also incapable of telling a joke.   
_“Do you know any other words?”_ He demanded.   
“Is Jason flirting with me?” He demanded in return.   
He could still hear Dick cackling in the background.   
Damian finally spoke. _“Surely you are jesting.”_  
“What? No, I’m being serious!”  
 _“That moronic walnut has been mooning over you for years. It’s sickening.”_ Damian was back to sounding disgusted. _“Surely you’ve noticed.”_  
“Noticed what?” He rubbed at his nose tiredly.   
_“What, seriously? You never noticed? He brings a box of chocolates to your office nearly every week. He keeps your disgusting coffee in stock here at the manor_ ** _and_** _the cave, as well as any of his hovels. You two patrol together at least twice a week and on Mondays he always takes you to get burgers. If you are somehow occupied on Mondays, he brings it to you. He’s_ ** _disgusting_** _.”_ _  
_Tim dropped his phone to the cushions and covered his face with his hands. His blush felt like a thousand degrees. Then he grabbed the phone and cut Damian off from lecturing him. “I need to talk to Dick!”  
“ _Greyson_!” He barked. _“Your emotional assistance is needed!”_  
 _“Ouch! Throwing isn’t nice, Dami! Timmy, I’m so sorry for laughing, but oh my god, seriously?”_   
“Why didn’t you say something!” He hissed.   
_“I just figured you knew! You know everything!”_  
Tim groaned.   
_“Oh my god, wait, what did he do that was so obvious you couldn’t ignore it? You, of apparently great ‘didn’t realize two dozen red roses is not normal for people to send as a congratulations for a promotion’ obliviousness?”_ Dick was grinning again, talking in one big rush. 

“Wait, what? When was this?! Jesus Christ.” Tim groaned again. “He said... fuck. He tried to use one of your awful pickup lines and then he said he liked my laugh. Then he called me pretty. Then he said he liked my smile. But  _ Dick _ .“   
_ “But what?” _ Dick was holding his breath.    
“Dick, he made me a  _ sandwich _ .” Tim said in a rush.    
_ “I lost you there. How is that...?” _ Dick sounded disappointed.    
“Orange marmalade and crunchy peanut butter. He made it, for me. He hates crunchy peanut butter and he hates marmalade. They’re my favorite. He  _ remembered _ .” Nobody had ever remembered him before. Not like this.   
_ “Oh my god.” _ Dick muttered to himself.  _ “I didn’t realize you were actually still in elementary school.” _   
“Dick, what do I do?” He hissed.    
_ “Uh, go jump his bones and ask to have adorable red children with him and have amazing sex? A combination of the above? One of the above? Any one of those should get the message across.” _ _   
_ “Dick! He’s  _ high _ ! He can’t make decisions right now, let alone consent to anything!”   
_ “Oh, right. Hm. Well, wait it out and then jump him.” _   
“I hate you.” He grumbled and listened to Dick giggle for a while. “It just feels wrong, dude. He’s saying stuff he normally never would. Isn’t that manipulative to take advantage of stuff he wouldn’t actually say?”

_ “Uh. Huh. Fair point, Timmers. The worst Damian did was squish my cheeks and tell me to shut up and cuddle him.” _

_ “That is a blatant bald-faced lie!” _ He heard in the background.

_ “I know you love my cuddles now! They will never stop!”  _ Dick sounded gleeful before returning to their conversation.  _ “Personally? It’s something that would make you both happy. If it’s something that makes you happy, who cares how it came out? But I don’t know. Don’t ever tell Bruce I said this, but maybe talk about it with him? Discuss your feelings like adults?” _

“Jason hates that almost as much as Bruce.” Tim pointed out.

_ “Well right now, Damian’s pretty much all better mentally. It’s just the physical stuff that’s lingering. Maybe wait til he’s clear but clumsy?” _

Tim sighed. Again. “Can’t you just come and watch him?”

_ “Okay, number one, absolutely not. I had to deal with Damian on a  _ **_little_ ** _ of this stuff. That was bad enough. I don’t ever want to see Jason  _ **_stoned_ ** _ off it. Number two, Jason will want to limit the amount of people who saw him like this to zero. He doesn’t like me more than he’ll be embarrassed about it. If we set Bruce and Jason as equal and then convert mini-Bruce’s embarrassment over. He only likes me as much as he likes missile launchers. I would die. Sorry kid.” _

Tim wasn’t quite sure how to follow his train of thought, but heard the baseline of ‘no.’ Great. “Fine.” He said. “But if I’m stuck here until it wears off, you have to bring me pizza.”

_ “I’ll check in on you for a bit, but I won’t be able to stay. Maybe we should change the Robin brand to lovebirds!” _

He almost threw his phone out the damn window to hang it up.   
Jason slept until dawn, about six hours or so. Then he tumbled out of bed and blearily made his way to the kitchen. Tim could hear him moving around like a drunk horse, balancing himself on everything he could reach. Tim stayed still, under the blanket he’d grabbed from the foot of the bed. He was cold and still half-asleep. Never really fell asleep. When he returned from the kitchen, Jason stopped by the couch.    
“Timmy?” He whispered.    
Tim grunted.    
Jason took that as permission to join him on the couch. Or crush him. The next thing he knew, Tim was being shoved up against the back of the couch. Jason tugged at the blanket and then settled down. He threw a leg over Tim’s and wrapped his arms around him. One hand ended up pressed between his shoulder blades and the other at the nape of his neck, fingers in his hair.    
Tim was suddenly very awake. Jason was like a fire up against him. He would probably start sweating before long. His face was pressed into Jason’s neck again. The black current smell had faded some, probably a cologne, but he could still smell it. He smelled richer now somehow, sleep warm, and a little like something savory that made him think of honey.    
Jason was completely surrounding him again, but this time he wasn’t wearing his armor and Tim was backed by the words of his siblings. He tentatively relaxed in the embrace. He shifted to make himself more comfortable since he couldn’t escape. He twined their legs together and slung an arm over his waist. Tim wanted to cry— Jason was ripped. His left hand was pressed between their chests so he knew he wasn’t imagining it.    
Jason made a pleased noise when he shifted to get comfortable against him, squeezing him gently. He could feel Jason’s cheek against his head. His slow breaths tickled his eyelashes when his eyes were open. So he closed them. And fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Restraint when it comes to spacing out my chapters? Never.   
> tbh there was such a positive response to this that I couldn't help myself so shout out to everyone who commented such lovely things to motivate me to post sooner <3  
> Drop a comment and let me know what you think! If you wanna yell more privately you can also shoot me a message on the blue hellsite at InAweOfDiana


	3. Chapter 3

He woke up because someone was watching him. His situational awareness was honed by years of battle and stealth; he noticed everything. So of course he noticed the eyes that were about six inches away from his face were looking at him. 

He blinked his eyes open. Jason was propped up on his elbow, looking at him in utter surprise. His mouth was slightly open in shock. 

Tim blinked a few times and then reached up to rub the sand from his eyes so they didn’t feel gritty. He was so not prepared to deal with this. He blinked up at Jason, a little more of the sleep haze gone. “What?” He grunted. It was too early for this. He either needed sleep or coffee. 

“Oh my god.” Was all Jason said. 

Tim stiffened as he abruptly realized that  _ this wasn’t a dream _ . This wasn’t his normal. He looked up at Jason’s eyes. His pupils were still wide, but looked more like he’d gotten them dilated at the optometrists. So they were slowly decreasing in size. Good. But also not good because he had to explain why exactly it had been a good idea to spoon with drugged-Jason. 

“It wasn’t a dream.” Jason breathed out, echoing Tim’s thoughts. His face was open and he looked like he did when they’d found some old Shakespeare thing that was apparently priceless. Reverent, almost. 

Or maybe he didn’t have to yet. 

“Jay?” He tried to wiggle back a bit, but was in a sofa-and-Jason sandwich. There was nowhere to wiggle to.

Jason reached out and skimmed his fingers lightly down the swoop of his nose. He retraced it several times, looking fascinated. Maybe it was because Jason’s nose was so perfectly straight— even after being broken so many times. Tim had what Steph called a ‘ski jump nose,’ that was flat until it curved to make a slight swoop. He was just shy of having an upturned nose. Jason traced that swoop before brushing his fingers under his eye, probably following the discoloration of the bags there. Tim shivered involuntarily when Jason ran a finger down the curve of his ear.

“You’re really here.” Jason murmured. “You’re so gorgeous like this. You’re glowing like you bathed in moonlight.”

Tim seriously doubted that considering how badly he needed a shower. So he was still drugged. 

“You’re not as hazy now.” Jason said, proving his line of thought. “Last night you were a sketch, but your lines have filled in. Most lines don’t completely capture the sketch, but yours do. You’re even better with the lines.” Jason cupped his cheek gently, running his thumb along his jaw. 

Tim always forgot how much Jason loved literature and poetry until he started spouting it, usually reciting. Sometimes he’d make limericks or craft sonnets when they were on patrol, centering them around how well they’d fought or what they’d done when they were bored. But this was free-form poetry, happening inches from his face. About his face. 

Tim was gone on this man. 

“Your face is so fucking soft.” Jason was basically petting him now. “Like, holy shit.” 

There went the poetry. 

“Your face is probably softer than mushroom caps.” He said it so casually and so earnestly that it startled Tim into a laugh. 

He was  _ so _ gone on this man. 

Jason watched him laugh and it was kind of embarrassing how pleased he looked about it. 

There was a loud banging on the door and Jason startled so violently that he fell off the couch. For the second time in twelve hours. 

“That’s probably lunch.” Freed, Tim vaulted over the back of the couch and stretched as he walked to the door. He fanned his face as he went, hoping he wasn’t a tomato. He opened all the locks and scanned his thumb before opening up. 

Dick was holding pizza boxes and wearing a grin that was cheesier than they were. 

“Dickiebird!”

Tim’s eyes went wide and he grabbed the boxes. Then he ducked, dropping to the ground as quickly as he could. As he’d guessed, Jason had bounded across the room and tackled him. Tim had moved just in time. Dick let out a short scream of surprise and then a happy noise of excitement that one of his siblings was willingly cuddling him. Even if it was in a dark, musty hallway.

Tim ignored them and took the pizza to the table. He was starving. He opened the first one and moaned. Double meatlovers. Dick was the best. It was still hot, but not hot enough he burned his tongue. God yes. The carbs, the grease, the gooey strings of cheese that were interconnecting Tim, his pizza, and the rest of the box of pizza.  _ Fuck _ yes. 

He looked up when Dick started laughing. He had an arm around Jason’s shoulders and Jason was staring at the ceiling like he was trying to see god. “You two are hilarious.” Dick informed him, helping himself to a slice. 

“How’s Damian?” He changed the subject. 

“Still light sensitive, but that’s it. No lasting damage, looks like.”

Tim sighed in relief. They’d known, but it was nice to  _ know.  _ “Good. So just another day or two and he’ll be good to go.”

“And then a day or two for you guys to get your shit together.” He raised a finger when Tim glared and opened his mouth. “Once Jason is in a fully aware and unimpeded state of mind and can fully consent and communicate as an actual adult and you get your shit together.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “You sound like us getting together is a given.” 

Dick raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “It is.” He cut off Tim before he could argue, again. “If It were up to you, completely removing everything else from the equation, would you date Jason?”

Tim couldn’t bury his face in his hands when he was holding pizza. 

Dick grinned at his blush and shifty eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes. And then I  _ know _ Jay’s answer already. So, yeah.” Dick shrugged confidently. 

“But how do you know?” Tim tried hard to sound like he wasn’t whining. 

Dick laughed. “Dude, look at him.”

Jason was still looking up at the ceiling with a pained expression. 

“He’s trying to process your pornographic pizza purrs.”

Tim was pretty sure he was as red as the pepperoni that was slowly falling off Dick’s slice of pizza as he waved it about. He cursed his father for giving him the Drake blush. It was violent, bright, and easily triggered. Even with his training, he still did it, though it was harder to trigger it now. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call them that?” He tried to look like he wasn’t kind of mortified. 

“Probably a lot more.” Dick took a huge bite and pulled to see how far the cheese would stretch. “It’s such good alliteration!” He said as he did.

“You are an actual child.” Tim sighed.

Jason finally came over, looking excited for pizza. He sat next to Tim. Dick raised his eyebrows at him. Tim ignored him. Together, they worked their way through the pizzas until Jason and Dick got into an arm wrestling match over the last piece. Tim swiped it while they were busy and got through half of it before they realized. Tim forked it over to Jason after he gave him the saddest, most devastated looking pout. Dick was laughing in the back the whole time.

“Oh, I forgot! I grabbed some clothes for you two from the penthouse so you can move to a better safehouse. One with a functional TV and CCTV security, preferably.” Dick grabbed his discarded backpack and threw it. Not to Tim, to Jason. In his defense, he tried to catch it. To Dick’s credit, he’d aimed it well. It smacked Jason in the face and he toppled over.

Tim glared at Dick.

Dick looked gleefully back.

“You are my  _ least _ favorite brother!” Jason lurched upright. He almost looked like his normal self with the angry twist in his brow.

“That’s what you all say!” Dick laughed. “But I gotta go, I’m meeting Wally! See you later baby bird!” Dick had to grab Tim to keep him still so he could plant a kiss on his head. “See you later little wing! You still mad or do you want a kiss too?” He teased.

Jason’s glare dropped. “Yes.” He looked a little shy now.

Dick’s eyes almost bugged out when he looked at Tim in disbelief, guilt plain on his brow.

“I told you so.” Tim said. He couldn’t even feel smug about it.

Dick circled the table and swept Jason into one of his octopus hugs.

Jason set his chin on his shoulder as he leaned into it, looking contented.

It took a slightly guilty looking Dick another five minutes to leave. He kept wrapping him up in hugs, murmuring things to him. He kept plastering loud kisses to his cheeks and forehead. He’d turn and go for the door and then turn right back around to hug him ‘one more time.’ Tim threw him out after the fourth time. He needed a shower so bad he could taste it. He decided that he would shower here and then take Jason over to his apartment so he could shower there.

He sorted out the clothes that Dick had brought with a groan. A pair of pink sweatpants with ice cream cones on the butt, a pair of baby blue athletic shorts, a red tank top that had a picture of a nun flipping a bird at the camera, and a bright green shirt that said ‘I met my wife on ancestry.com’ with a bunch of clipart. He despaired for Dick’s fashion sense, because even he wouldn’t have been able to do this bad on purpose. All of these clothes were equally awful.

Jason had claimed the pink sweatpants when he realized the ice cream cones had sequins. Tim was left with the tiny shorts. He was pretty sure they were originally Bart’s. Maybe Garfield’s? He grabbed the nun tank too after serious consideration.

He showered and changed and was still just as unhappy about them once he was wearing them. He sent Jason to change and make the bed as he packed their gear into the backpack. When he picked up Jason’s dusty jeans, his cell fell out of the pocket. When he checked it, there were multiple texts and calls from Roy, Artemis, and Kori, as well as several texts from Stephanie, a meme from Duke, and a chain of amused texts from Dick. He tapped it and it went to the password screen. Just a four number code. He grimaced. None of the Bats used birthdates or anything similar because they were too easy for the rest of the family to guess.

He could always ask. Hm. “Hey Jayce! What’s your phone password?” He yelled.

“Tango Juliet Delta Whiskey!” He yelled back immediately.

Tim grinned. T… J… D… Wait. Those were his initials. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. Could it be a coincidence? He shoved the thought aside. He would deal with that not-quite-mystery later. He thumbed through to the phone and tapped a horribly unflattering photo of Roy. It only rang once before it was picked up.

_ “Jaybird! Dude! You never called, are you okay? We heard about the explosion! Thank fuck you’re okay man!” _ Roy sounded slightly frantic and very relieved.

“Roy, sorry, this is Tim--” He was cut off

_ “Oh my god he died again didn’t he. Oh my god.” _ He was taking a sharp turn back towards frantic.

“No, no, he’s fine! He’s totally fine, very alive!” Tim hurriedly interjected as soon as Roy took a shaky sounding breath. 

_ “He’s good? What’s the status report? Coma? Spear through the head? Double compact shin fractures?” _ The underlying message was ‘he would have texted by now if it wasn’t bad.’

“Uh. Well, there’s not a scratch on him actually. He got dosed with something—“

_ “Was it sex pollen? Like Star Trek fanfiction shit? Are you calling because you need to tag out of incredibly athletic and bendy sex?” _ Roy went from concerned to entertained on a dime. 

“Jesus  _ Christ  _ no! That is so nonconsensual, just to  _ start _ with! Jesus!” Why were Roy’s friends like this. They were all as awful as he was. “He’s just really fucking high, okay?”

_ “Like, weed high? Or like acid high?” _

“Like morphine high. He’s like a puppy or something. Easily distracted.”

_ “Fucking incredible. Send video.  _ **_Please_ ** _.” _

“No. He’s also got no sense of embarrassment or any of his normal bullshit he projects. He’s basically naked. Like, emotionally naked.”

Roy hissed on the other end, probably wincing.  _ “That’s absolutely the worst thing it could have done for him.” _

“Yeah. Dick and I decided to limit his embarrassment to as few people as possible, so he’s basically quarantined right now.” 

_ “You are the last person he would want babysitting him right now.”  _ Roy sounded equal parts pained and amused. 

“Yep. But he’s, well, there’s not much left on the list of things he hasn’t blurted out.”

_ “Shit. Okay but I gotta know, what was he saying? I’m assuming you’ve figured out his gigantic crush on you.” _

Tim winced. “Yeah. That. A lot of that.”

Roy stifled a laugh. “ _ Oh man, this is awful, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But has he started waxing poetic about you yet?” _

“A little when we woke up.” Tim was  _ not  _ telling him they cuddled. 

_ “That’s just about all he does when he’s drunk. Unless we’re starting a barfight. But even then sometimes. I have heard more about your forearms than I ever wanted to know.” _ Roy giggled out. 

“Jesus Christ. I’m so done with this.” Tim rubbed at his face. 

_ “Don’t you dare fucking hurt him. You need to just stay the hell away from him once this is over.” _ Roy’s voice was suddenly sharp. Low and acidic.  _ “He’s pouring his heart out and he’s going to need to brood about that and he needs to not have you rubbing it in his face when he does.” _

Tim made one of those strangled noises that Jason had been making lately. “No, Roy, I…”  _ I would be heartbroken if I was torn away from him right after figuring out I might have a chance with him.  _ “He’s important to me.” He didn’t realize he was clenching the front of his shirt. 

Roy was silent for a long moment. “ _ I’ll be the judge of that. Bring him to our place.” _

“I was actually calling to ask you to leave?” Tim cringed. “With the limiting people thing and all.”

_ “Trust me, there’s no possible way he could embarrass himself to me. We have done just about everything on the list and then some.”  _

“Right. Okay. I’ll bring him over then.” 

“ _ Use his phone to call an Uber so I can track you guys. _ ” Roy ordered.  _ “I’m going to clear out the search party.”  _ Then he hung up on him. 

Tim stared at Jason’s phone for a long moment before he called an Uber and locked it and slipped it into his Robin backpack he carried. They were ready to go. 

“Jay!” He called. “Wanna go see Roy?”

He heard a “Hell yeah!” and then a crash, a thump, and an “oof.” Then Jason was trotting into the living room. He looked ridiculous in the shirt, but the pink sweats that were way too short on him matched his Disney Princess socks. 

“Here, put on your jacket.” Tim handed it to him. The strap of the backpack should obscure the nun enough that he should be okay. 

Tim swept the apartment looking for anything out of place before he went to the door. Jason was wearing his worn boots (Tim had pilfered flip flops) and was holding both backpacks over one broad shoulder. 

“Come on Timmy!” Jason ruffled his hair and then bounced on his toes excitedly. 

Tim smiled at the eagerness and happiness on his face. He hoped he’d get to see it again after this. Jason darted out the door and was halfway down the hall before Tim could splutter “Jason! Stop!”

Jason paused and looked back at him. “Come on!” He gestured. 

Tim sighed. This was going to be an ordeal, he was fairly sure. And it was. Jason jumped the rails on the stairs until Tim could stop him. He kept trying to move off in different directions when he saw something interesting. 

Tim ran through his options. If he was going to act like a child, he’d treat him like one. No other motivations whatsoever. He grabbed Jason’s hand and laced their fingers together, holding tight. 

Jason stared at their hands for a long moment. Then he buried his face in the crook of his other arm. Then he looked at Tim, eyes bright and cheeks pink. He leaned over and pressed a kiss high on Tim’s cheek. He didn’t say anything, content to swing their linked hands. 

Jason’s lips were soft.

Tim was an awful person. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another pretty quick update because I was overwhelmed with sweet comments again. <3 <3 I've got another good chunk written already that I'm hoping to edit at work tomorrow, so fingers crossed! I'm going on vacation at the beginning of next week so I'm kind of hoping to churn out a decent ending so I don't leave y'all hanging for a week <3 <3


	4. Chapter 4

They had to walk two blocks before they got to an area where Uber would actually pick up from. The one he’d ordered was waiting for them. They climbed in and Jason hummed along with the radio the whole way. He’d refused to let go of Tim’s hand, so they were still linked when they arrived at Jason and Roy’s. Part apartment, part headquarters, part safehouse; it was a loft apartment above a warehouse they used for storage. Jason dragged him up the stairs, urging him faster. 

Jason let go of his hand when he saw Roy though. He’d left the door open, probably to save Tim from the ordeal of finding Jason’s keys that he may or may not have.

“Roy!” And then he was gone. He was moving fast enough that it was hard for Tim to track. This was the first time he’d seen him run, or rather, the first time he’d been slow enough to see. His movements were fluid and his stance was textbook perfect. Then he tackled Roy at full speed. Tim could immediately tell that the embraces Jason had caught him in were intended to be hugs, because this was definitely a tackle. His nearly horizontal form when he jumped was a tackle that Kon would be proud of.

Roy let out a shriek as Jason barreled into the room, almost speedster fast, and came right at him. They ended up in a heap on the floor. Jason was an octopus on top of Roy. Roy was wheezing, stunned.

Tim grabbed the backpacks Jason had dropped and let himself in. He shut and locked the door behind himself and looked around. He hadn’t ever been here before. The attic space was almost as large as the warehouse below and completely open. Two walls were industrial steel, several doors on each side. The other two were floor-to-ceiling windows in gorgeous patterns. It looked like someone had gotten bored and replaced the windows with stained glass art, only without the stained part, just mosaics of glass.

The rest of the place was just as interesting. The cement floor was entirely covered. Half of it was covered in colorful training mats and the other half was covered in an array of overlapping rugs in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were handmade, some were bloodstained, some were stolen (if the security tags on them were anything to go by). The side with the mats was divided in half, open on one side and filled with workout equipment on the other. The side with the carpets had a workstation against each steel wall. The one on Jason’s side looked like it was set up as a kitchen. The other side looked like an explosion waiting to happen. In the center was a cobbled together arrangement of living room furniture, an unnecessarily large dining room table that was being used as a desk, and two desks that had been pushed together to use as a dining table. Hanging from the ceiling were a multitude of small targets, run by a pulley system that ran down to the corner by Roy’s workstation. The targets were riddled with arrows in two different lengths, which was strange to him. He knew Roy preferred shorter arrows because he used a modified compound bow, but the others were longer, much more traditional looking. Behind each of their stations they had plastered up maps, papers, documents, paperwork related to cases. On Roy’s side, there were also plenty of chalkboards, covered in two distinct sets of handwriting. One was Roy’s, but he didn’t recognize the other The walls by the gym area were set up with mirrors. Above the ten foot mark, it seemed random, contrasting posters hanging at angles here and there, a few paintings as well. He guessed Kori was trying to make it a little homier for them. That would definitely explain the christmas lights criss-crossing the ceiling.

Tim loved it. It was so them. It was so Jason. Functionality put first and unconventional, but not lacking warmth or personality. It was cozy. Not that Jason was cozy. But not that he wasn’t cozy. But maybe that was another thing, not looking like it was cozy from the outside, but having the possibility to be hidden away inside.

He really should leave the poetry to Jason.

Roy and Jason were still in a pile on the floor. Jason’s face was pressed into Roy’s neck and he was humming something, hugging him tightly. Roy was rubbing his back soothingly, looking up at the ceiling. He was slightly distorted just because of how they were laying, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Sup.” Roy grinned at him.

Tim raised an eyebrow at him.

Roy just laughed.

Tim wandered towards the living room setup and dumped their bags on the coffee table before he flopped down on the couch. Facedown. One of his flip-flops fell off. 

He wasn’t tired, not physically. But emotionally and mentally, he was overwhelmed trying to figure it all out. Even though he’d mostly already figured it. It was a lot for him. A lot for anyone raised by Batman.

He could hear Roy teasing Jason, enticing him to get up. Jason bantered with him easily, but it sounded like he was resisting getting up. “Dude, go shower. You smell like construction site and grandmother.” Roy chided.

Tim turned his face just enough to watch them. His cheek was squished against the tweed of the couch.

“Nope. Too much work. I don’t smell me and I don’t care.” Jason was splayed out childishly on the ground, easily grappling Roy to pin him to use as a pillow.

Tim snorted. “He never remembers to anchor his feet, flip him.” He called.

Roy grunted in return. Then he writhed, twisted, and rolled them far enough over that he could slither out and then grab him in a headlock. Jason pulled at it, but he was no match for an archer’s arms. He pouted and tapped out. He stayed on the floor when Roy stood. He looked away from Roy’s helping hand like he didn’t see it.

“Oh my god. Seriously Todd? Do I need to drag you in there by your ankles? Hey, wh-- these are  _ my  _ socks! I’ve been looking for them for three days!” They dissolved into bickering as Roy dragged him across the carpet. They made it about ten feet before they were wrestling again. Tim watched with amusement. It was remarkably similar to watching Steph and Damian or Dick and Duke. Damian dragging Steph to responsibility; Dick dragging Duke to shenanigans. He crawled up and leaned against the arm of the couch where he had a better view. Muscled thighs, straining biceps, and flexing backs? He wasn’t going to miss out on that.

“Dude, really?” Roy groaned, flopping back once Jason had his knee in a brake hold over his forearm. His hair was starting to come loose from his messy bun.

“I don’t want to. I want to cook.” Jason’s voice was approaching a whine. He released his arm to catch him in a thumblock to twist his arm up behind his back.

“You can’t cook if you’re dirty.” Tim pointed out. 

Jason paused and looked up at him. Roy shot him a thumbs up. Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“Please Jason?” Tim asked, as sweetly as he could. Which was pretty damn sweetly. He smiled too, tilting his head to what he knew was his best angle. “For me?”

Jason turned pink and buried his face in Roy’s back. Then he stood and stomped away to his room, ruffling his hair aggressively and muttering to himself.

“That was mean.” Roy stood and brushed himself off.

“I’m an awful person.” Tim dropped his face into the arm of the couch.

Roy sighed and he sounded annoyed. “Come on man, I can’t be mean to you if you’re already being mean to you.” 

“I deserve it.” Tim muttered into the couch. It was muffled.

“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t drown.” Roy announced, following Jason into his room.

Tim took the chance to snoop.

On Roy’s workstation there was a longbow that was way too big for him. Behind Jason’s workspace, there was an apron that was at least three sizes too big for Jason. It looked like it might even be too big for Superman. There was a plethora of sticky notes on the desk in 5 different handwritings, color coded so each person had their own color. Jason’s jagged handwriting was on red, of course. Roy’s scrawl was on yellow, and the green notes he vaguely recognized as Kori’s handwriting. He didn’t recognize either the tidy cursive on blue or the spidery print on orange. So there were two other Outlaws he wasn’t familiar with. Interesting.

“He’s like a puppy.” Roy complained when he came back. Tim was squinting at some island maps, trying to decipher the arrows and scribbles. “He’s kinda like this when he’s drunk. Pretty easy to deal with once you know how.” He said casually before his eyes locked onto Tim. That was the look in Bruce’s eyes when he was honed in on a target. And Dick’s. And Tim’s. And Jason’s, Cass’, and Duke’s, and Steph’s and Damian’s. It was not a good look to have trained on you. “But it sounds like you’ve already figured that out.”

Tim tried not to grimace or flinch. “Yep.” He admitted.

Roy assessed him. Tilted his head in thought. Then he grinned. “You’re so into him.” He laughed.

Tim blushed. 

Roy just laughed louder.

Jason wandered back in, looking curious. He was wearing comfy civilian clothes, a big Gotham Blades hoodie and plain green basketball shorts. His hair was damp, curling as it dried. He was also wearing a large pair of sunglasses and another pair of pilfered disney princess socks. Belle and Tiana this time. 

He had come out curiously at the sound of Roy’s cackling, but he perked up when he saw Tim. “Timmy!” Jason darted across the room to his side. “You’re still here!”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Jason smiled widely. “And Roy’s still here too!”

Tim nodded.

“Hell yeah!” Jason was very cheerful about something. “Sleepover!”

What.

“Nope, Timmy’s gotta go home after dinner.” Roy said firmly.

Jason pouted at Roy, eyebrows drawing into a glare.

Tim wanted to disagree, but knew it wasn’t his place to object. As far as he was concerned, Roy was in charge now. He knew Jason better than Tim, knew better what was best for Jason right now. He didn’t have to agree with him, he just had to listen to him. 

Jason grumbled and looked away from Roy.

Roy smirked and looked deliberately at Tim. He tilted his head at him, though it was purely for show.. “Why are you wearing Wally’s shorts?”

Tim blinked and looked down at the tiny running shorts.

“Wally’s shorts?” Jason echoed with a frown, looking at Tim seriously. His one track mind was already off the sleepover idea.

“Huh. I thought they were Bart’s. Maybe Gar’s. Dick brought em.” He shrugged. He’d known they’d looked familiar.

Jason’s scowl went deeper and he turned abruptly on his heel, stomps muffled by the rugs.

Roy snickered. 

Tim glared. “You did that on purpose.” He accused.

“Not really. It’s just, really, Wally’s shorts? And Dick gave em to you?” Roy wiggled his eyebrows. “You sure they’re clean?”

“Oh, gross! Roy!” Tim threw a cushion at him.

When he returned, Jason prowled towards him with a stack of clothes that he dumped down Tim’s front that he was forced to grab.

“You’re not wearing that lamebrain’s shorts in my house!” Jason declared, chivying Tim towards his room.

Roy cackled from somewhere behind him.

Jason shoved him into his room and crossed his arms. 

Tim rolled his eyes. “I’m not changing with you watching. Go bother Roy.” He shut the door in Jason’s face. Jesus. He was stupidly gone on him, but he was a bit too much like a five year old like this. He was slowly returning to himself though, Tim reflected as he changed out of the stupid shorts and the stupider shirt. Thank god.

Jason’s room was unexpectedly clean. Everything was put away: books lined up to be even with the edge of the shelves, clothes neatly hanging facing the same direction, the heels of his shoes all even with an invisible line under his bed. There were some posters tacked up on the walls, all of them perfectly level with each other and completely even. There was no dust on anything and his bed was made with perfect hospital corners.

Except for the pile of clothes on the floor and the discarded towel, it was almost alarmingly clean.

Jason had grabbed him a shirt that was probably way too small for Jason but just about Tim’s size. It was the only thing that was the right size though. He had to cinch the waist of the sweats and roll the waistband down several times before they approximated his size. He’d also grabbed a gigantic hoodie that looked like a band sweatshirt. On closer examination, it was a sweatshirt for a broadway show. He pulled it over his head and paused when he inhaled. He wrapped his arms around himself, bundling the fabric in front of his face. The smell of black currant and spice was heavenly around him, so thick it was a little heady at first. He slowly wiggled into it and settled it on his frame. He felt like he could get drunk off the smell of Jason’s cologne.

Tim picked up his discarded clothes and grabbed Jason’s as well. He deposited them in the hamper in the bathroom. He was unsurprised to find that the bathroom was just as neat as the bedroom. 

He swiped some of Jason’s deodorant and found a spare toothbrush he didn’t think he would miss from under the sink. He felt much better once he was out of those horrible clothes Dick had brought. Because honestly. What a dick.

When he slipped back out of Jason’s room, Jason and Roy were standing in Jason’s makeshift kitchen. Roy was fiddling with a small machine and Jason was sifting flour. He’d never actually seen anyone sift flour before. 

Jason’s one track mind was focused on what was, apparently, a chocolate cake.

Tim was glad. He stopped a few times when he’d catch sight of Tim and go red all the way up to his hairline before returning to his task at hand with twice as much vigor. This resulted in more than a few broken eggs, a splash of batter across Roy’s side, and a minor burn on Jason’s wrist.

Jason got more and more subdued as the day went on. It was hard to tell under the sunglasses, but Tim was willing to bet that his pupils were steadily decreasing in size. His movements slowly became less erratic and more confident even as he started another cake and avoided looking at Tim.

His stomach started to sink. So it was starting to wear off then.

Jason’s shoulders slowly got more and more tense as the day went on.

Tim decided to put a stop to it. He waved a simple goodbye and fled, stomach starting to knot up.

Roy frowned at him when he left, but didn’t stop him. He looked between Tim and Jason and looked like he understood. He left but he didn’t go home. He went down the stairs to the warehouse in his civies and hoofed it to the closest safe house he knew of. A tiny bolthole of Cass’ that he was able to catch a nap in until dark.

He dug his Red Robin gear out and suited up in the dark, grimacing at the dried sweat on the inside of the armor that he hadn’t wiped and the smell of the liners that he hadn’t washed. He could suffer for a night, but he refused to let Gotham suffer for his own comfort. He folded his borrowed clothes up and set them in a box near the door that had a few magazines of rubber bullets in it. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing Jason’s sweatshirt and folding it up as small as he could before shoving it in his backpack. 

He couldn’t afford to think about trivial things anymore. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not as happy with this chapter but it at least went the way I wanted it to, so I'm not going to complain TOO much  
> Any guesses as to what's Jason's favorite broadway show? :)c  
> Also I'm obsessed with the smell of black currant and amber so now y'all gotta deal with that  
> Next chapter is gonna rot ya teeth out!!
> 
> Also I'm totally going to be writing a followup of this where Tim and Dick get a dose of the same stuff trying to synthesize it once they figure out what the intended effects of it are. I hope y'all like birdflash because there's gonna be a jaytim and there's gonna be a birdflash (if my friend can make it through finals anyway)  
> I'm trying to decide if I'll have enough inclination/material to write any other pairings for this, but I'm not sure yet.
> 
> Drop me a comment and let me know what you liked to motivate me to finish the next chapter!!


	5. Chapter 5

He was going to go back and see Jason the next day after he’d slept, but then he was called into WE for several conference calls when their French translator called in sick. He was going to go by after work, but then Damian had needed him to pick him up from the library. He was going to return after that, but then there was a break in Stephanie’s case she was working. Then his own patrol route needed attention, as well as Jason’s. And then Damian insisted that Tim help him with tracking down the source of the drug. And then Dick made Tim sleep. And then Bruce dragged him to WE for some board meetings. And then this and then that and then it had been three days since he’d left Jason with Roy. 

He rescheduled his dinner plans with Kon, Bart, and Cassie, and set out from the penthouse on his Ducati. He’d only gotten about four hours of sleep, but he didn’t care. He needed to see Jason. His stomach was in knots the entire way. 

When he got to the warehouse, he wasn’t surprised that the door at the top of the stairs was locked. He knocked politely. 

When it opened, he was surprised it wasn’t Roy. 

He gaped up at the woman in front of him. 

She stood well over six feet tall, towering over Tim, even without the wedge heels she wore adding to her height. She had firey red hair that was pulled into a long ponytail that nearly brushed the ground behind her. She was wearing a tank top and jeans that clung to her curves like a second skin, showing that she was impressively muscled and impressively beautiful. 

There was no doubt in Tim’s mind that this was an Amazon. He also didn’t doubt that she could crush him like a tin can.

She scowled down at him. “Go away.” She swung the door closed. 

“Hey!” He tried to keep her from closing it in his face, but he was no match for her strength. He didn’t dare shove his foot in the crack, knowing with certainty that his tin can theory would be easily proven. “Hey, open up!” He knocked again, much less politely. 

“You bats are not welcome here. Especially you. Leave.” Her voice faded as she moved away from the door. 

Tim didn’t dare try pick it. He’d seen the door from the inside and had gotten a good look at the mechanism that covered the other side of the doorknob. It would shock him with enough voltage that he’d die, if he were lucky. 

He scowled. He hadn’t had nearly enough sleep for this. 

He went back downstairs and then outside. The door slammed behind him and a locking mechanism clicked loudly. He ignored it and circled the building. The sides were smooth metal, but that hadn’t ever stopped him before. He pulled out a pencil case from his messenger bag and knelt down to fiddle with it under what he knew was Jason’s window. 

He gripped the rods tightly and examined the building one more time to make sure he was lined up correctly. Then he affixed the rods he was holding as high up on the wall as he could reach. 

These climbing magnets were clever little pieces of technology he’d come up with. The magnets would unlock when he pressed the button at the end with his thumbs and would lock into place when they were released. As long as his grip was firm and his arms held up, he could climb anything made of metal that he wanted to. He hadn’t quite figured out the locking with his feet, so he was forced to make the entire climb without his feet. He kept them crossed at the ankle and bent at the knee. He knew it didn’t help at all, but it made him feel better. 

It took him only a minute or so to climb up to Jason’s window. He set one magnet on the sill and pressed the other one low so he could sling a knee up over it. He used his free hand to pick the lock on the window and slid it open as soon as he was done. He hauled himself up and found Jason staring at him. 

He was sitting on the bed, surrounded by guns. There was a broken down rifle in his lap and a handgun leveled at Tim’s head. 

Jason looked conflicted. 

Tim didn’t blame him. “Hi.” He panted. The sill of the window was pressing into his stomach and it kind of hurt. “Can I come in?” He was still holding one of the magnets. It should hold his weight if he had to throw himself back out the window and used it to slow his descent back to the ground. In theory, anyway. 

Jason jerked his gun away, pointing it at the ceiling instead of at Tim’s forehead. “Yeah.” He sounded strained. 

Tim wiggles forward a bit and let his body tilt until he could get his hands on the floor. Then he slithered the rest of the way in, kicking his legs up over his head and then doing a reverse backbend to stand up. He shoved the magnet rod in his pocket. “Can we talk?” He asked. Good. Talking was good. He had a plan, he should stick to it. 

“Uh. Yeah.” Jason set his glock down on his leg and Tim heard a small click when he flicked the safety on. “You, uh, door?” Jason glanced at the door to his room.

“The Amazon didn’t give me a chance to talk.” Tim slid the magnet stick back into its case. He’d get the other one later.

Jason scowled at the door. “That’s because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Tim deflated slightly. “That’s fine. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, then.”

Jason tilted his head and looked at Tim. Eyes narrowed, lips pressed together, really looking. Tim could see the detective in him as he took in every detail he could about Tim.

“I should have come by sooner, but I got caught up with a few emergencies. I just…” He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Talking about his feelings was hard for him at the best of times, but he figured it was only even for him to lay things out for Jason, considering how thoroughly he’d spilled his heart without even saying anything. “I know it’s not fair of me to bring up what you did when you were drugged, but it’s better this way.” 

“It’s better this way.” Jason echoed Tim’s words flatly. He ducked his head and Tim could see his neck going red.

“No no no, not like that!” Tim hurried to amend his words. How had he messed this up already? “It’s better that we, y’know, talk about things now, when you’re clean! I didn’t want to say anything or start anything when you couldn’t consent to it. Not like that.”

Jason’s head snapped up and he looked at Tim again, eyes wide.

Tim took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. It shuddered a little. How was it that he could face down Crocodile without flinching but this made him so nervous he wanted to curl up in a ball? “It wouldn’t have been right to take advantage of you like that. And I’m not going to assume anything because you weren’t in your right mind. But either way, I’m going to make this fair. I like you. Like, really like you.” He could feel all the blood in his body starting to rush to his face in the damned Drake blush and he couldn’t help but fan his cheeks with one hand when he looked up at the ceiling. “And if you want, I’d-”

“Yes!” Jason cut him off. Suddenly he was in Tim’s space. He was a breath away from pressing up against him, hands flexing nervously at Tim’s sides, beside his biceps. Hopeful, but not yet daring to touch. “Yes.” He whispered, just looking at Tim. His eyes were huge, making Tim think of the drug again, but his pupils were normal sized. He could see his irises clearly for the first time since before he was drugged. He’d never really paid close attention to them, but now that he had, he was kicking himself for his inattention. At his birth, they’d been a stormy, sapphire blue. At his rebirth, they’d been lurid, acid green. Now that the effects of the Lazarus pit had settled, they were mottled into an unnatural teal that seemed to glow at times and reflect light at others. They were beautiful. And they were trained firmly on Tim.

“Yes?” Tim whispered back. This beautiful man had said yes to him.

“Yes.” Jason whispered again. “To anything. To everything. To you. Yes.” His hands settled gently on Tim’s arms. Like butterflies, tentative and ready to fly away at a moments notice. Jason was blushing, making his eyes look greener.

Tim could feel himself going redder at his words. “Can--” His voice caught in his throat.

Jason nodded, though he didn’t hear the question. “Anything.” He repeated.

Tim lifted his hands and took Jason’s face, cradling it. His square jaw was smooth, perfectly shaved, and hot under his palms. He gently tilted his head, didn’t even need to pull for Jason to bend down slightly so they could finally kiss.

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

So this was what people were talking about when they said kisses lit off fireworks in their bellies. Though it was just a slow, chaste press of lips, Tim could feel fizzing in his stomach, a warm twist of happiness that made his stomach swoop and his skin tingle. He was hyper aware of Jason’s hands moving over his body, one hand sliding down his arm and back to his waist and one hand rising up to cup Tim’s hand on his own jaw. He didn’t even notice when he closed his eyes.

They both pulled back the barest amount to part their lips and stood together sharing the same breath.

Jason tugged at Tim’s hand and twined their fingers together. Their noses brushed when he turned his head to press a warm, dry kiss to Tim’s knuckles. “You’re shaking.” He whispered. He was right. “You okay, baby bird?”

“I’m just--” Nervous. Hopeful. Anxious. Terrified. Apprehensive. Happy. Scared. “--excited.” He smiled.

Jason returned it, balled cheeks bunching up to make crinkles around his eyes. “Me too.” He murmured back.

Tim went up on tiptoe to taste his smile, pressing their chests together.

The door swung open. “Hey, your nerd stopped--” the Amazon from earlier was in the doorway, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Tim. She scowled at him. “How did he get in here?” She held out a hand like she was Thor and suddenly there was a gigantic battleax flinging itself into her hand.

“He’s fine, now get out!” Jason stomped across the room and slammed the door in her face, getting redder by the second. 

“I am calling Roy.” She announced from the other side.

Jason grumbled something unkind under his breath, finishing with a “fuck’s sake.” before looking back at Tim.

Tim rubbed awkwardly at his neck. “I can go?” He offered lamely.

“If you want.” Jason stooped to pick up scattered pieces of his rifle he’d dumped off his lap when he’d stood.

If it had been a week before, Tim would have already been out the window. This week though, he was pretty sure he could read his own awkwardness and shyness reflected in Jason. This week, he remembered how hungry for touch Jason had been. “I downloaded some movies.” He informed Jason, blurting more than saying.

Jason stilled.

“I know you like Star Trek. They rebooted the original series a while ago, I don’t know if you’ve seen them yet.” He offered in what he was hoping wasn’t a babble, pulling his tablet out of his bag. He watched Jason think. Jason was silent for such a long time that Tim thought he’d fucked up. He was almost ready to shove his tablet back in his bag and make tracks for the window when Jason gave the tiniest of nods.

“Yeah.” It came out as a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I saw the first one before I died, but that’s it.” Jason was moving carefully then, lots of thought in his movements as he approached Tim again. It was the same sort of carefulness that he’d used at first, reminding Tim of butterflies again.

Tim smiled and went up on tiptoe to kiss him again, moving slowly and choreographing his movements so Jason knew what he was doing. Stretching as tall as he could and going up on the tips of his toes, setting a hand against Jason’s chest for balance, and just barely catching Jason’s bottom lip.

Jason covered his hand with his own immediately, pressing it flat to his chest.

Tim settled back down, flat footed, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Jason’s hand, just over his knuckles. The way Jason had kissed him twice now. Jason’s mouth twisted into a smile and Tim returned it. Jason’s heart was beating quick against his palm. 

These kisses were more animated than the last one they’d shared. They moved slowly against each other. Gentle slides of lips and tentative caresses as they shifted their bodies together. Tim could feel his anxiety dissolving away under Jason’s mouth and he could feel the other man relaxing slightly against him. It was slow and heady and utterly perfect.

They eventually parted and Jason leaned down to rest his forehead against Tim’s.

In Tim’s life, he rarely got perfection like this. If it was too good to be true, it was usually a trap. But this? If this was a trap, he might just let it happen if it meant Jason would keep kissing him like he was something precious. 

Jason pulled back just enough to press feathery kisses in a line up Tim’s cheekbone to his temple before nuzzling into his hair. Tim pressed his face into Jason’s neck and inhaled deeply. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been dreaming of Jason’s smell. Black currant and amber on top of green wood and weapon oil. When Jason spoke, his voice rumbled through Tim and it took him a moment to process that he was saying actual words that Tim needed to reply to.

“I thought Netflix and Chill was more of a fourth date activity.”

“I’m offended you think that I’d be willing to disrespect Star Trek like that.” Tim was lucky he hadn’t dropped his pad. He looped his arms lazily around Jason’s neck and leaned against him. It was amazing how Jason didn’t move in the slightest, body just shifting against him to compensate for his weight.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page then. Maybe if we were talking about Next Generation, but I could never disrespect Captain Kirk like that.” Jason rubbed at his back gently.

“And I would never let you disrespect Picard like that.” Tim wanted to pinch him.

Jason laughed softly and Tim was gone. It was such an open, genuine laugh.

“Or we don’t have to watch anything at all.” Tim admitted in a whisper. “I just want to be close to you.” He could feel his cheeks going hot again.

Jason groaned and then Tim was being lifted into the air by a tight grip on his hips.

He did drop his pad then, grabbing onto Jason reflexively.

“Easy. I won’t drop you.” Jason set Tim down on the bed like he weighed nothing. 

“Nah, you just startled me.” Tim said, amused as Jason manhandled his bag off of him.

He smiled when the strap of the bag lifted off the logo on his sweatshirt. “You look damn cute in my clothes, baby bird.” He teased Tim gently, looking down at him in his oversized Hamilton sweatshirt.

Tim blushed, but didn’t argue.

“No shoes on the bed either.” Jason added, grabbing up his cleaning equipment from where it was set out neatly on the bed.

Tim kicked his shoes off. He couldn’t really believe he was here in Jason’s room, on Jason’s bed, after kissing Jason. The knowledge that he was mere moments from making out with Jason was making his stomach swoop.

If only ten year old Tim could see him now.

Jason put his gear away and then sat on the bed next to Tim. He looked a little nervous still, a little disbelieving. 

Tim stretched and flopped back, opening his arms to Jason. He knew now that the other man was not so secretly a cuddlebug.

Jason laid alongside him and they shifted together until there were only a few inches between their chests. Tim settled his hand on Jason’s hip. One of his fingers landed on a sliver of skin between his shirt and jeans and he shivered slightly at the touch.

“Is this okay?” Tim asked.

Jason pressed forward and pulled Tim towards him by his hips. His biceps strained at the sleeves of his shirt with the movement. “Perfect.” He smiled. It was a real smile, not a Jason smirk special or a Robin grin. He’d seen it while Jason was drugged, but it was different now without a haze in his eyes. It was better now.

Tim bit his lip, physically biting back a grin.

Jason reached up to thumb at his lip, freeing it. “What’s that look for?” He asked.

Tim couldn’t hold back the grin. “So, my face is softer than mushroom caps, huh?”

Jason stared at him for a moment before he went beet red and tried to roll away from him.

Tim laughed and grabbed onto Jason before he could escape, latching onto his back and snaking his arms around his chest in something that was half cuddle, half wrestling move.

“I take it back, I hate you.” Jason’s words were muffled in the bedspread. He pressed back into Tim a bit though, so he probably didn’t mean it.

Tim couldn’t help but giggle into his back. He rubbed his face against Jason’s back like he was a cat. “I thought it was nice.”

“You have terrible taste then.” Jason grumbled.

“Not always.” Tim squeezed him in a hug.

Jason huffed a bit, but eventually settled his hands over Tim’s. After a few minutes, he slowly went utterly boneless in Tim’s arms, relaxing against him and letting Tim wrap his much smaller body around him for a little while. Tim pouted when Jason rolled over in his arms. He’d been quite content with his forehead pressed between Jason’s shoulder blades.

Jason grabbed him and pulled him up the bed a few inches until he could settle his chin on top of his head.

Tim sighed happily when he pressed his face into Jason’s shoulder and neck.

They settled together again, both of them just happy to lay there and soak each other in. Tim was glad he didn’t have to feel guilty anymore about having Jason in his arms. Happiness soared in his stomach and a rare sense of contentedness was growing in his chest. Jason had said yes to him and he was holding him so carefully, cradling the back of his head like he was a newborn.

He pressed a kiss to Jason’s adam’s apple and the older man shivered lightly.

He was so big, but he was brought to his proverbial knees by the lightest of kisses. He was so soft, but he was the first to protect anyone, everyone else. He was so fierce, but he was so gentle with Tim. 

Tim wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this comfortable, this content, this happy.

Jason seemed to be in the same boat, gently caressing up and down Tim’s back with his free hand. Long, sweeping strokes up and down his sides and slower, heavier tracing of his fingers down his spine.

God, Tim was so gone on this man. But it was okay, because Jason was gone on him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It's done! Thanks everyone for your patience!! <3 At this moment, I am planning a part two with the rest of the batfamily getting dosed. There will be birdflash, stephcass, overly concerned dad bruce, and much more jaytim  
> It may not be for a while as I'm going to try and work more on my StrayVerse
> 
> Leave me a comment and let me know what you're looking forward to or let me know what you liked about this!! If you're super dying, check out the rest of my DC fics and you're always welcome to come yell with me on Tumblr @ InAweOfDiana

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello it's me back on my bullshit  
> I don't even remember where this came from anymore, but I vaguely remember wanting to see Jason having feelings and being allowed to express himself unhindered by anything. Unfortunately, that means Tim has to deal with it, sorry Timmy  
> Validate me by leaving me comments


End file.
